In. Out. I can see my cold breath as it passes over my lips. As if I'm sensitive to every touch, I can feel my cracked lips ache. In. Out.
Beads of sweat tickle my pale face, I want to brush them away but I don't. I image if one were to get stuck on my freckle it would blur it. As if there were words written under a dirty fish tank. You know it's there but you can't quite determine what it is.
In. Out. Do freckles work like that? Can you blur them? I believe that if one cried enough they could slowly wash away their freckles, but that's not logical.
I have this habit, when bad news is threatening my world I close off. I'm waiting to find out the news. I've dreaded this moment for what seems like eons, but really has only been mere minutes. I missed last month, I remember one time when I was 15 I missed. I was a naive child sometimes. My boyfriend at the time did his business on me very close to my vagina, I believed I was pregnant when I missed the next month.
The internet is a cruel place for a young teen.
Google told me I could be pregnant and my parents would have kicked me out so I punched myself in the stomach in hopes of getting rid of anything. I didn't learn til later that it really wasn't possible for me to be pregnant nor would the punching have done anything. In. Out.
Possibly it's a cruel cosmic joke that I'm sitting here right now waiting to find out if I am pregnant at only 21. If the universe or say God got bored do think he'd say to himself, "Let's throw them humans some struggles."?
"Maybell Johns." Says a nurse.
Maybe he added volcano....Oh wait I think I heard my name?
"Yes, yes that's me ma'am." "Okay please follow me."
Oh no, oh no, don't cry you idiot. Just breath Maybell, I think to myself. She has a funny walk, I think as I follow the nurse. If I'm pregnant my kid better walk normal.
"Sit right here, someone will be by in a minute," she says as she opens the door, then abruptly spins on her heel and walks out.
The floor is cold, granted I can't really feel it through my shoes I have a feeling it is. Part of me wants to feel it.
In. Out. Stealthily I approach the deathly waiting chair. Being 5'6 I have no problem sitting down. One minor issue is my short legs however. I don't quite reach the floor.
What if small monkeys slightly smaller than the plastic horses I played with as a child decided to climb my legs because they thought they were hanging branches, that would be awful. In. Out.
Maybe I have time to touch the floor afterwards, then I'd have confirmation. No more questions of temperature. Maybe the doctor-man won't come. Then I wouldn't have to know the answer, what if I'm pregnant? What happens then?
"Hello. I'm Doctor Edwards, you must be Maybell."
I whip my head up to see a very old man entering. His hair is a soft gray, speckles of his former color remain. I can tell he was once a very attractive man.
"Yes, that..that's me, hi." I stammer a reply.
He smiles gently at me. "So we have your results, you are pregnant!" He says with bright eyes and a smile.
His voice fades into the background. Shock. My only feeling is shock.
Suddenly I'm falling, my hands hit the ground, cold very cold, I was right. I shift and go down compltely on my back. Dr. Edwards looms over me, then nothing, pure blackness.